if that's what feels right to you, bug.
it had been a few days since aria had mumbled “mommy” to emily, and it hadn’t left emily’s brain. how could it?
the next morning, when aria woke up, emily had gone through their normal routine—getting aria ready for daycare, getting herself ready for work. and when aria called for her, sleepy-eyed and still warm from sleep, she had said “emmy,” like always. emily wouldn’t lie to herself. for the first time, hearing “emmy” didn’t feel the same. it made her sad. she tried identifying it into something more, but no. sad, was just it. because hearing “mommy,” even just once, had felt better than anything she had ever known. but she didn’t push it. she didn’t try to correct aria or ask her to say it again. she just answered normally, brushing it off like it didn’t affect her.
still, she carried it with her to work, the way she carried all the things that sat heavy in her chest, pretending it wasn’t weighing her down. but jj knew better. they were tucked into the corner of the bullpen, where the morning rush of agents had mostly settled, and emily, coffee in hand, was doing her best not to let the disappointment creep into her voice when jj asked how things were going, how aria was doing — her normal run through.
“she hasn’t said it again,” emily muttered, her fingers wrapped tight around the paper cup, as if grounding herself. “i think maybe she was tired. or—maybe it was a fluke.”
jj frowned slightly, glancing toward emily’s hands, her grip so tight it made her knuckles pale. part of jj was expecting the cup to bust at any point. “a fluke?” she echoed, voice careful.
emily let out a short, almost breathless laugh. “i don’t know. maybe she didn’t mean it.”
jj leaned forward, resting her forearms on the desk between them, blue eyes soft with understanding. “emily, she’s two. she’s figuring it out. that doesn’t mean she didn’t mean it.”
emily exhaled, looking away for a moment, like she needed to compose herself. “i just—i want her to choose it. on her own time, you know? not on mine…but hearing it. i just–? i dont know.”
jj nodded, knowing there was nothing she could say to fix that ache, that longing emily carried so close to her chest. instead, she just reached out, pressing her hand over emily’s wrist, a silent reassurance.
“she’ll get there,” jj murmured. “you know she will.”
emily met her gaze, searching for doubt in jj’s eyes, but found none. not one but. so she nodded, sighing softly – even if her chest was heavy in a way she had never felt before.
“i hope so.”
that afternoon, when emily walked into the daycare, she braced herself. for the past few days, she had told herself not to expect it. to stop waiting. to just let it go. but the moment aria saw her, the same thing happened as always. her little face lit up, and she grinned so wide it scrunched her nose, dropping whatever toy she had in her hands as she ran forward as fast as her little legs would take her.
“emmy!”
emily bent down, arms open, catching her easily and lifting her onto her hip. aria immediately settled against her, tiny fingers gripping at the collar of emily’s jacket. and that small ache, the one emily had been carrying since the night aria had said mommy, made itself known again.
she wasn’t going to let it show.
she kissed aria’s temple, rubbing her back gently as she nodded toward melanie at the front desk, thanking her as she signed the check-out sheet. aria tucked herself in closer, like always, her warm little body familiar against emily’s side.
the ride home was full of conversation, the way it always was. emily had barely pulled out of the parking lot before aria spoke up, kicking her feet against her car seat.
“emmy, i p’ay wif gabe!” she announced, clutching her stuffed rabbit in one arm.
emmy.
emily smiled, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. “oh yeah? what’d you guys do?”
aria hummed, thinking. “him hab…da truck. da red one! i say, ‘i hab turn?’ an’ him say, ‘otay, aria.’”
she said it with such importance, like it was the biggest moment of her life.
emily chuckled. “that was really nice of him.”
“yeah.” aria nodded firmly. “hims nice.”
the conversation flowed as smoothly as ever, shifting from what games they played to snack time to what songs they sang that day. emily listened, chiming in when needed, but mostly she just let herself soak in the sound of aria’s little voice filling the car.
then, right on cue, came the usual question.
“what do ‘day?”
emily smiled, taking the turn onto their street. “let’s see… i had a lot of meetings. talked to a lot of people. drank way too much coffee. and—oh!—i think i saw penelope buy half of the energy drinks from machine at work today.”
aria gasped dramatically. “nelope like energy!”
“she does. too much of it.”
aria giggled, kicking her little feet, clearly delighted by emily’s day – though she hadn’t gotten an update she wanted yet.
“see my jayje?”
emily nodded, a soft smile spreading. she did she jj. she had a short therapy session as well in the bullpen about aria first thing that moring.
“i did see jj. she asked how you were baby.”
“‘bout me?”
“yes, you.”
aria hummed, the nodded.
“i dood.”
emily grinned, shaking her head a but as she flicked on her blinker. by the time they pulled into the driveway, she felt a little lighter. even if aria never called her mommy again, she had this. their routine, their normal, the little details of their everyday life.
inside, emily hung her keys on the hook, and aria immediately tugged at her hand, pointing toward the kitchen counter where sergio’s treat jar sat.
emily bit back a smile. “you’ve got a job to do, huh?”
aria nodded seriously, her brows furrowing with focus. emily walked over, grabbed the jar, and twisted off the lid. she pulled out three treats—always three—and placed them in aria’s little palm. aria gasped, clutching them like they were gold, before turning on her heel and running to find sergio. emily leaned against the counter, watching as the cat, who usually acted unbothered by everything, immediately padded over to aria, rubbing against her legs.
aria crouched, carefully setting the treats in front of him. she waited patiently as he sniffed at them before finally crunching down. she beamed, looking over her shoulder at emily.
“sergy wub me,” she announced proudly.
emily chuckled. “he sure does, bug.”
with sergio taken care of, aria went straight to her toys, plopping down on the living room floor and getting to work stacking her little animal figures into neat rows. emily, meanwhile, sorted through the mail on the counter, flipping through envelopes as she pulled out the bills and tossed the junk.
she moved to the fridge, grabbing ingredients for dinner she set out that morning, listening to the sound of aria’s tiny voice.
she was playing quietly, but of course, she soon came tearing into the kitchen, her socked feet slipping slightly against the hardwood as she rounded the corner with all the force of a toddler on a mission. she barely caught herself, little arms flailing before she steadied, her eyes wide with excitement.
emily had just started stirring something on the stove when she felt the quick, urgent taps against her thigh. she looked down, smiling at the sight of aria, her cheeks flushed from play, her tiny fingers gripping a small plastic fawn so tightly it was like she’d just discovered it for the first time – and emily had to see too.
“i show! i show, mo—”
aria froze.
the shift was immediate. her entire little body tensed, and her fingers clutched the toy even tighter, like she could hold onto it and keep herself grounded. the excitement in her face drained into something more unsure, her mouth still slightly open, but no more words coming out.
emily knew.
she knew exactly what was about to come out of her mouth. she could see the realization flicker across aria’s face—that awareness that she had been on autopilot, mid-sentence, and then suddenly, she was fully awake and thinking too hard about what she was about to say. like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to say it now that she wasn’t sleepy and cuddled into emily’s chest.
emily’s stomach twisted.
aria’s lip wobbled just slightly, her brown eyes darting up to meet emily’s face like she was waiting for something. emily reached for the stove without looking, flicking it off before she bent down, dropping to her knees to be at eye level with aria without hesitation. her hands instinctively found aria’s warm little cheeks, cupping them gently. her thumbs brushed over the soft skin as she tried to gauge what was going on inside that tiny, busy mind.
aria didn’t speak right away. she just stared at emily, brows furrowed, lips pressed together like she was trying to figure out something big, something too heavy for someone her size.
emily softened, tilting her head. “bug? what were you going to say?” she asked softly.
aria hesitated, eyes flickering away for just a second before they met emily’s again. her tiny fingers curled a little tighter around the plastic fawn she had come running in with, like she needed to hold onto something solid.
emily ran her thumb over her cheek again, a reassuring touch. “were you going to say mommy?”
aria didn’t answer with words at first—just a small, hesitant nod. emily swallowed. she nodded, too, like she was trying to make it feel as normal, as okay, as possible. she had seconds to decide the best way to handle this, to make sure aria knew she wasn’t in trouble, that she wasn’t saying anything wrong.
she chose honesty. always.
“bug…you can call me whatever you want,” she said, voice quiet but steady. “you can call me emmy, like always. or you can call me mommy if you want to. either one is perfect. either one is right.”
aria’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt again, her teeth sinking slightly into her bottom lip.
“i say.. mommy befores…?” she mumbled, almost like she was testing the words out again.
emily’s heart ached at the way she said it, so small, so unsure. she nodded, keeping her voice as gentle as possible. “you did, baby,” she confirmed. “and it made me really happy.” she paused, making sure aria was still with her, still understanding. “but emmy makes me really happy too.”
aria blinked up at her, the crease between her brows easing just a little. “i say mommy?” she asked, like she was asking for permission.
emily inhaled, then exhaled, nodding. “if that’s what you want, bug. if that’s what feels right to you.”
aria stared at her for another long moment, her little mind clearly working, trying to put her thoughts together in a way she could understand.
then, carefully, like she was making an important decision, she reached up, her tiny fingers brushing against emily’s cheek before trailing down. she played with the chain of emily’s necklace absentmindedly, twisting it between her fingers, her face thoughtful.
“emmy…ari mommy…” she mumbled softly, looking up at her, like she was testing out the words.
emily felt her throat tighten. aria let the chain slip through her fingers and tilted her head slightly. “i say mommy,” she said again, a little more sure this time.
emily pressed a kiss to her forehead, pulling her close, letting aria settle against her chest. “yeah, baby,” she murmured. “you can say mommy if you want.”
aria nodded softly, her little body relaxing further into emily’s hold. her tiny fingers, warm and delicate, traced faint, winding lines along emily’s palms, following the natural creases like they were maps leading her somewhere safe. emily let her, let her explore in that quiet, thoughtful way only aria did—like she was figuring something out, one tiny touch at a time.
aria’s head settled against emily’s chest, the weight of it familiar and grounding, like she had always belonged there.
and then, so softly it was barely more than a breath, aria whispered, “mommy.”
emily closed her eyes, just for a second, just to steady herself.
aria wasn’t looking at her, wasn’t saying it to her, exactly. she was testing it, trying it out like a word that had always been on the tip of her tongue but never quite made it out. a word that she wasn’t allowed to really say, to truly feel. not until recently. not until now.
"mommy,” she murmured again, barely above a hum.
emily let out a slow, careful breath, her thumb running over the delicate curve of aria’s knuckles. she didn’t interrupt. didn’t rush her. just listened, heart swelling in a way that made her feel lighter and heavier all at once.
aria shifted a little, curling closer. “mommy…” she said it again, like she was getting used to the way it felt in her mouth, how it landed in the air between them. how it settled perfectly.
and emily—emily just held her, held her like she was holding every version of herself that had ever needed this moment.